


doubt truth to be a liar

by thewayofthemandalorian



Category: Prospect (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Domestic Bliss, F/M, Implied/Referenced Sex, Kissing, Librarian Reader, Making Out, Marriage, Married Life, Meeting the Parents, Mutual Pining, Pregnancy, Professor Ezra, References to Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:07:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27538066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewayofthemandalorian/pseuds/thewayofthemandalorian
Summary: Ezra is a new English literature professor, you work at the university library stuck in a rut after having graduated two years ago. You meet at the library and sparks fly, but there’s one snag: Ezra needs a teaching assistant for his Shakespeare course, making chances for any potential relationship between the two of you tricky.
Relationships: Ezra (Prospect 2018)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> t feels like so long since I’ve done an Ezra fic! I’ve had this idea floating around for a while, of having Ezra be an English professor, so I’m glad that the first chapter is finally up. (Note: Reader is not a student of Ezra’s) I hope you guys enjoy it! 
> 
> Chapter warnings: None, really. One single swear for this chapter.
> 
> Find me on tumblr: @thewayofthemandalorian

Something you were quite skilled at was staying in places even long after you had outgrown them.

Case in point, still working at your university’s library a full two years after graduating. You weren’t a student. Not even considering doing your masters degree. After experiencing academic burnout, any and all ideas you had been entertaining of possibly continuing your education had been thrown out the window.

You hadn’t _meant_ to keep working at the library at the university. Hell, you weren’t even sure if you were _allowed_ to keep working at the library. The school typically only wanted students filling positions. But your manager had liked you and she hadn’t said anything when you graduated. So, here you were. A clerk at the university library.

Even though you had outgrown it in some ways, you still enjoyed working at the university library. It made you feel _distinguished_. The pay was good and the hours were steady. Since you had the highest seniority of the employees who weren’t supervisors or managers, you got first pick of the hours every time the schedule changed in the new semester. It was nice having the routine.

However, for all that, you still felt as though something was _missing_. That your life wasn’t quite _right_. You couldn’t figure out what was wrong. Or rather, you wouldn’t allow yourself to figure out what was wrong. It was as though you were stuck in a rut, but you didn’t know what the rut was.

It was the day before the beginning of a new school year. Your student co-workers were either excited or nervous, depending on their year and their degree. One co-worker that you got along especially well with, Mary, was a healthy mix of both. She was going into her third year of English, which is what you had graduated with.

“I have a new professor this year,” she said to you as the two of you arranged the “Welcome Back!” display in the front foyer by the check-out desk.

“Oh, yeah?” you mumbled carefully around a thumbtack that was perched gently between your lips. “What’s the course?” you asked, pulling the pin out, sticking it to the bulletin board.

“Shakespeare,” Mary confirmed. You nodded as she handed you a brochure to add to the display.

Stepping back to take a better look at the display, making sure that everything was level and looked good, you said, “I took a Shakespeare course. But I had mine with Professor Adams. He was a hard-ass.”

Mary cringed. She was a good student - you’d proofread some of her essays last year when she found out you had majored in English - but she didn’t like professors who were hard. Not that you could blame her.

Smiling gently, you said, “Hopefully this new guy isn’t as bad as Adams was.” You weren’t even sure if David Adams still worked at the university. He was old when you’d had him three years ago. You didn’t tell her that new professors were sometimes harder to please than the old ones, since they needed to prove themselves capable.

“I hope so,” she said fretfully. “All I know is that his name is Ezra and he’s quite … unique.”

You patted her arm. “Unique doesn’t necessarily mean bad, Mary. I’m sure he’ll be just fine.

* * *

As it turned out, you discovered for yourself what Mary’s new professor was like before she even did.

The following day, the first day of orientation week, while everyone was out learning the lay of the land or going to their first party of the semester, you were sitting behind the desk in the almost completely abandoned library, scrolling on social media when the automatic doors opened.

Not paying the person any mind when they strolled past you into the library, you glanced at the clock on the computer. Two hours left…

“Excuse me?” drawled someone. You looked up. Right into the face of the most handsome man you had ever set eyes upon.

He was tall. Taller than you. He had a smattering of facial hair and dark brown hair, save for one rebellious blonde streak in his cowlick at the front of his hair. His hair curled slightly at his neck. Chocolate brown eyes twinkled playfully at you as he took you in.

You were _staring_ , you realized suddenly. Clearing your throat, you said, “Um, hi.”

The man smiled down at you. “Why, hello. I find I am new to these parts.” His accent was slow, melodical. As though he carefully thought out each word before speaking.

“I am teachin’ a Shakespeare class this year, and was hopin’ to get the lay of the land so to speak, as I imagine I will be spending what little time outside of educating here.”

It was not uncommon for professors to use the library themselves, but you were impressed. Most professors you knew didn’t _like_ using the library. This one, on the other hand, seemed to like the library. “Welcome then Professor …?” you trailed off, not knowing his name.

“Please, birdie, call me Ezra. Unless you are a student of mine that I do not yet know?” said the man named Ezra. You introduced yourself in turn as recognition sparked in you at the mention of his name.

“I’m not a student myself, no. But one of my co-workers, Mary, mentioned that she was taking a Shakespeare class this year,” you said.

Ezra contemplated this for a moment. “I did remember seein’ a Mary on the class list now that you mention it,” he said. You smiled, knowing that your friend would be in safe hands for Shakespeare with Ezra.

“I don’t mean to take up your time …” Ezra began.

Waving away his comment, you said, “With the swarms of people? I think you’re the fourth person I’ve seen all day. Everyone’s at parties or university events.” You wrinkle your nose at the memory of some particularly bad parties you attended during orientation week during your time as a student.

Ezra chuckled. “All the same, birdie. I just wanted to say hello. Introduce myself before the chaos. I remember the chaos all too well.”

“Don’t we all,” you said. “Especially in first year. Later years, there was too much to do to justify getting wasted.” Ezra nodded, understanding exactly what you meant. It was common in literature students to get overloaded with work in later years, having essay after essay to do.

“I’ll let you explore a little bit, get the lay of the land,” you said, not wanting to keep him. “But if you need anything, you know where to find me,” you said. You wanted to keep chatting with Professor Ezra. Though you hardly knew him, he struck you as being quite an interesting character. Unique, as Mary had put it earlier.

“And I’m sure I will find you again, birdie,” said Ezra before walking into the stacks, leaving you with an easy grin.

* * *

Ezra became a permanent fixture in the library as the school settled in for another year. Mary sure seemed to like him. He seemed like an enthusiastic professor. You had heard all about his first lecture from Mary the following Friday afternoon.

“Oh, he’s so nice and he seems like he’s a really fair marker so long as you do what’s expected of you. And he’s so _young_ for a professor! I heard that he’s only thirty-four!” Mary gushed as the two of you sorted a cart of books that needed to be shelved.

You smiled as your friend continued on. “He seems like an interesting man from what I’ve seen and heard of him,” you said. Nice was putting it lightly, you knew. But that was all you could keep it at. Even though you weren’t a student, hadn’t been in more than two years, you were still unsure of whether or not a faculty member could date a former student.

Every Tuesday and Thursday, Ezra would mosey his way into the library, say hello to you, and sit down at a table to do reading and scrawl notes. On quieter days, he would spend more time at the front desk if you were there.

“What has a graduated English student still working at the library? I know it truly is a remarkable place, but most students tend to run for the hills when they graduate,” Ezra said one day as you were stamping new books with the library information.

“They liked me enough to not ask me to quit when I graduated?” you offered. “That’s the best explanation I’ve got. Josephine - my boss - said I was too good to be let go,” you said. “That I could stay on as long as I liked, and I haven’t found anything that I liked better than this.”

Ezra hummed, giving you that smirk you had come to like. “Well, that Josephine probably knows what she’s talkin’ about.” You felt heat flush your cheeks as you realized his compliment, offering him a bashful grin in response.

The two of you had struck up an odd, lovely rapport in such a short amount of time. Ezra would ask you about courses that you had taken when you were a student. You had been a good student. Good enough that you had made the dean’s list every year that you went to school.

You grew to look forward to Tuesdays and Thursdays quickly. Though you ignored the flutter that your heart gave when you saw him walk up the steps towards the door, you couldn’t ignore the way he would smile at you as he gave you a good morning. Mary, who worked with you on Tuesdays and Thursdays in between classes would shoot you a teasing smirk.

One such Tuesday in October, just before reading week, found you putting away books, the page out “sick” for the day - you had spoken with them on the phone, they sounded fine. You missed Ezra coming in, instead shelving books in the section on medieval history.

“Fancy meeting you here, birdie,” said a familiar voice from behind you.

Nearly jumping out of your skin, you turned to see Ezra. “Ezra!” you said in a hushed tone, not wanting to disrupt the busy students. “Hi. Um, how are you?” you said.

“Well, I find myself in a bit of a conundrum.” His genial smile was missing. Whatever was bothering him wasn’t good. “Mary told me where to find you. I’m assuming she’s told you?”

Now you were _really_ intrigued.

“Told me what?” Your mind was racing with possibilities.

Ezra sighed. “I hate to ask you, but do you by any chance have any experience with being a teaching assistant?” he asked. “It’s just that - well, Amy, my teaching assistant for the Bard has decided that it isn’t quite what she wanted to do.”

“She quit?” you asked.

Ezra nodded gravely. “I’m afraid so. And I’ve looked to the department - they have no student they can spare at this eleventh hour.”

You bit your lip. “Would you need me to lead the seminar?” you asked. “If there even _is_ a seminar?” You weren’t sure if there was a seminar, or if it was just a workshop. Mary hadn’t told you that part of it.

“No, no seminar, you don’t have to lead any discussions or anythin’ quite like that, birdie. I just - fifty assignments is a lot to grade, and I could use an extra set of hands if it’s at all possible. You would have to sit in on the classes, since a lot of it is performance based.”

Ezra noticed your hesitation. “What about work?” you asked.

“Is there any way you can change your schedule? The workshop is on Wednesdays from two until five,”

 _This changed things_. “Oh! Well, if that’s the case. Um, I have Wednesdays off, so I could definitely come to the workshops. It’s just the grading part of it that would … That I would need to figure out. Like when to do that part of it.”

Ezra could see the wheels turning in your head. How desperately he wanted you to say yes! So that he could see you more often. “Tell you what. You ruminate. Think it over. And get back to me when you’ve decided.”

You nodded appreciatively. “I will. And I’ll talk to my boss about it. It shouldn’t be an issue if I decide to take you up on that offer.”

Ezra looked like he wanted to say more but changed his mind. “I’ll let you get back to work, birdie,” he said, walking towards the section on Shakespeare.

* * *

Think about it you did.

It would be different. It would be interesting. You would be able to see exactly what Mary meant when she said that Ezra was “alive” in the classroom.

“So, you understand that I can’t proofread your essays if I take this T.A. position, right?” you asked her when you had come back down from the third floor and told her what Ezra had asked you.

Mary had just nodded. “It’s okay. My dad can edit my papers. He did in high school. Are you going to do it?” she asked you in hushed tones.

You hesitated. “I’m thinking about it.” You were leaning towards yes. It would complicate the feelings that you were starting to grow for Ezra. Working alongside him would muddy the waters significantly.

 _But it might not_. _It might make things clearer_ , you thought as you drove home.

Yes, you liked Ezra, perhaps more than just as a friend or colleague. But you also were stuck in a rut with your job, and this might present new opportunities for you. And it was something new, which was a thing that you had been pining for since graduation.

When you spoke to your boss, you surprised both Josephine and yourself. “I don’t want to add hours in place of the hours that I would be cutting. Ezra - The professor promised me that I would be reimbursed by the department.” It wasn’t a lie. You had looked it up online on the page dedicated for prospective teaching assistants on the university website.

Josephine’s eyes had nearly bugged out of her head. “You mean … you want to go from twenty-four hours a week to _ten_?” she sputtered.

Offering nothing more than a shrug, you said, “It gives an opportunity for students to pick up more hours.”

It wasn’t fair that you were getting so many hours when you had a nest egg of savings in your account in addition to the inheritance from your grandfather’s will. You weren’t strapped for cash at the moment, and with the knowledge that you wouldn’t be a teaching assistant for free, that made the decision to cut back on your hours significantly easier.

“I’m shocked, I really am,” said Josephine. “But I can’t truly say I didn’t see this coming. You were always meant for bigger and better things, my dear. So long as it’s what you really want,” she said.

All you could do was nod. “It’s what I want,” you said, your voice more sure than your resolve. “Something different.”

Josephine had to concede to that. She had noticed that you were starting to wilt doing the same thing day in and day out. “Well, we’ll miss you,” she said as she began to edit the schedule in the word processor.

You liked Josephine, you really did. But sometimes she could be really fucking dramatic. “I’m not going to be gone forever. You’ll still have me on Tuesday and Thursday mornings,” you said patiently. Josephine had to nod. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that if this went well and opened doors for you that you didn’t know existed, you would be cutting your hours down to zero.

* * *

It felt slightly dirty looking up Ezra on the English department website. But he hadn’t told you his office location, and Mary didn’t know where it was. It was on the syllabus, but she couldn’t remember and it wasn’t posted online.

When you had found both the whereabouts of his office as well as his office hours, you clicked out of the department website. His office hours ended at three, and it was two-fifteen right now. You had fifteen minutes until your shift ended. It would be a bit of a walk, but you could probably manage it.

Slowly the clock ticked to two-thirty. You were out of there before your replacement Emily could even so much as take her coat off.

This decision had been weighing on your mind all day, since you had made up your mind, really. But you wanted to make sure that Ezra knew with enough time to get everything settled with the English department and everything.

His office was out of the way, in an abandoned hallway. The door was ajar, soft music streaming through. You knocked awkwardly on the open door.

“Come in,” he drawled.

Pushing the door open, you cleared your throat. “Hi, Ezra.”

“Birdie!” said Ezra, his face lighting up as you stood before him at his desk. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You return the smile. “I’ve thought about your offer,” you start.

Ezra was eager. “And?” he said, unable to keep the enthusiasm from his voice.

His enthusiasm was infectious. “When do I start?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the feedback on Chapter 1! I’m really enjoying writing this story, and I’m glad that everyone is enjoying reading it! This was supposed to be up a few hours ago, but then the power decided to go out for a while and throw off my plans for a while.
> 
> Chapter warnings: Mutual pining, some swearing, mayhaps a kiss or two? 👀
> 
> Find me on tumblr: @thewayofthemandalorian

You had to admit, it was odd being back in a classroom again after so long. But you very quickly re-gained your footing. The strangest part was that you were not a student, but rather the one _grading_ the students.

The former teaching assistant, Amy, had left behind what little grading she had recorded - you were grateful that she had been clear in her criteria, and that this was a full-year course instead of just for the fall semester.

Though you would not fully admit this to yourself, the main reason you were so glad it was a full-year course was because of the man teaching the course.

It didn’t take the two of you long to fall into a rhythm together. Ezra was one of the most unique teachers you had ever seen. The way he came to life when he was speaking about Shakespeare, whatever play it was that the class was studying, the themes of it all. He had everyone on the edge of their seats, holding on to his every word. Including you.

For as odd as it was to be in a classroom again, it was _refreshing_. Like you actually had a purpose in your daily life again. You knew that that might be a bit dramatic, but you didn’t feel as though you were in that rut anymore. As much as you had enjoyed working in the library, it didn’t give you satisfaction anymore. Not as it once had.

You were so glad that the students hadn’t yet submitted their first essays yet. The due date was quickly approaching, though. You knew you would need to speak with Ezra about his grading criteria. He had mentioned a little bit when he had given you more details about the job, but what with the first assignment coming up next class, you knew that it was something that you needed to get on top of.

After your shift at the library - where you and Mary had spent the entire shift cataloguing new books - you made your way to where Ezra was sitting in the stacks.

He looked up at you as you approached him. “Good afternoon, birdie.”

You greeted him in turn, “Hi, Ezra - uh, professor.”

Ezra waved you off. “Birdie, you’re not my student. I must insist that you continue to call me Ezra.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the look he gave you. “O-okay, Ezra.”

He gestured to the unfilled seat across from him. “Have a seat. How can I help you on this dreary afternoon?”

Ezra was right. Today was cold and windy and rainy. The kind of day that you just wanted to spend curled up in a blanket on the couch.

You sat. “I know that the essay for Shakespeare is coming up next class,” you started, absently playing with Ezra’s discarded pen.

Ezra nodded.

“And I was just wondering what your criteria is,” you said. “I don’t want my grading to be that much harsher or easier than yours.”

Nodding again, Ezra explained exactly what it was that he was looking for. It was a relief to hear that his criteria was not so very far off from what you expected yours to be.

“Does that sound about good? Yeah? Good,” Ezra said once you were satisfied with his explanation. He shifted gears suddenly. “I’ve got a question for you, birdie,” he said.

“For _me_?” you asked. You hadn’t been expecting him to ask you a question. “Um, sure.”

“Don’t sound so surprised, sweetheart. I value your opinion.” Heat flushed through you at that. “I was wonderin’ - it’s my first time teachin’ a class like this - how am I _doing_? The kids seem to like it, but as someone who’s taken a Shakespeare class before…”

You cut him off. “Ezra. You’re doing _fine_. Hell, outstanding, even. I’ve never seen a more engaging professor before. I only wish I had someone like you when I took Shakespeare. My professor had us read _silently_ from the plays. That’s not how you do Shakespeare. The way you teach it is how Shakespeare would have _demanded_ it be taught.” You cover his hand with yours for emphasis.

 _Just friendly, though. Right_?

The way his thumb stroked your knuckle, though, you weren’t so sure. “Thanks, birdie,” said Ezra.

Begrudingly, you took your hand back, suddenly feeling shy. “I’ll, uh, I’ll let you get back to whatever it is that you’re doing,” you said.

“I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon?” said Ezra, as though he wasn’t sure you would show up to class.

You nodded as you stood. “I’ll be there,” you confirmed, giving Ezra a small smile which he returned.

* * *

“What’s up?” asked Mary as you paced back and forth in the breakroom twenty minutes later.

You had come back here to get your lunch and coat, but you couldn’t stop thinking about your interaction with Ezra. It hadn’t even been three weeks since you had first accepted his job offer, less than two months since you had first met him, and here you were with the worst crush you had ever had.

As you explained to Mary what had just happened, she didn’t look surprised. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you in class, of course he likes you,” she said.

Flopping down on the plush couch, you sighed. “What am I supposed to do, though?”

Mary sat down beside you. “He’s not _him_ , you know. He’s not Damon,” she said softly.

 _Damon_. Your ex. You still didn’t know what you ever saw in that selfish, lazy man to keep him around for as long as you did - which admittedly wasn’t very long as far as relationships went. Mary was one of the few people that you had told about that relationship. It had been years since you had seen him, but he still served as a blueprint for what _not_ to look for in a prospective partner.

“I know,” you whispered. “But it’s still awkward because he’s faculty and -”

Mary stopped you. “So are you, technically. You don’t work for him. You’re not a student.”

You sighed. Mary was right. She was a smart one.

“You’re probably right,” you conceded.

Mary raised a brow at you. “I _am_ right. Now get out of here before Josephine takes this moping as you wanting to work extra hours again. And all I want you to think about is how you’re going to give me an A-plus on that essay.”

Picking yourself up off the couch, you sighed in agreement. “Okay. I should probably get out of here. I have things to do.”

As you slung your bag over your shoulder and zipped up your rain jacket, you looked back at her. “But who’s to say that I’m going to give anyone an A-plus?” you teased.

At home, you tried to unwind, tried to let your mind wander to other things other than the way Ezra made you feel. Instead you tried to think about reading break that was quickly approaching - the week after next.

Inevitably, your mind strayed to Ezra. How he had held your hand in his when you had patted it. What Mary had said.

 _I’ve seen the way he looks at you in class, of course he likes you._

You had seen the way he had thrown glances your way while he was lecturing, too. The way he gazed at you in the library every time you spoke. How excited he was when you had said that you would be his teaching assistant.

 _I value your opinion,_ he had said. Not many people had said that to you before. _No one_ had said that to you before, the more you thought of it. At least, not in a very long time.

Ezra was kind-hearted; you knew he wouldn’t be a repeat of Damon if you decided to pursue him. He was everything Damon was _not_.

Eventually, you allowed yourself to fall asleep, your dreams haunted by deep brown eyes and a roguish smile, reserved - or so it would seem - just for you.

The next day, Wednesday, you were one of the last people to arrive to the class, just ahead of a group of girls who were chattering nervously about their essays. You didn’t miss that part of school one bit - the stress of it all. While it was a daunting task to grade things, it was far less daunting than having your own work evaluated.

You slipped into your seat at the front just before Ezra entered the room.

Ezra was like every stereotypical English professor in the way that he dressed for teaching. He rocked a cardigan or tweed jacket with elbow patches on top of a button up shirt (with the top button undone) and loosely-tied tie. As with everything else he did, he dressed with a certain _flair_ that couldn’t be easily replicated. Though the clothes were basic, he wore them with style. You thought he would look good in just about anything.

Grabbing the attention of the class (never a difficult feat), Ezra said,“All right, first order of business. Your first essay. If you can drop them on my desk now, we can get started with the conclusion of _Coriolanus_.”

After the din of scraping chairs and shuffling papers had died down, and everyone had submitted their essays in two piles - one for you, one for Ezra - on his desk, Ezra began his lecture. He always enjoyed acting out the more intense scenes, his accent becoming more pronounced as he spoke. After reading break, he was going to start having students perform scenes for the class.

Keeping Mary’s words in your mind, you noticed that Ezra dropped several glances in your direction as you sat, spell-bound as he read the final lines of dialogue that the main character spoke before his betrayal and murder before launching into the discussion.

Spell-bound was a good description of how he made you feel most of the time.

Mary caught your look and winked subtly before returning attention to the discussion.

* * *

You groaned as you read the notice on your apartment door. The power would be cut for twelve hours tomorrow for maintenance work.

 _There go your plans for grading at home_.

You dumped your bag on the couch before toeing your shoes off. Re-reading the notice again, you sighed. You had booked tomorrow off work so that you could grade the essays, but how would it look if you went to the library to do your marking?

That was your only option. It was too dark in your apartment, especially at this time of year. You supposed you could hide away in a corner, where no one would see you. It wouldn’t be a big deal.

Maybe, if you were lucky, you could share a table with Ezra.

As you prepped dinner, you thought back to his reading today. You wondered if he was that passionate about _everything_ he did. You suspected, as you took a bite of your dinner, that he probably was.

You were _not_ lucky the next day.

It was as though everyone in the entire school decided to do their studying and assignments at the library the next day. The only free table was in the common area, which was also the area where people didn’t need to be quiet or mindful of other people.

Cringing, you turned on your heel. You hadn’t seen Ezra as you had perused the second, third, and fourth floors for an empty table. Should you work at the cafe? _No_. It would be noisy and busy there, too. You were out of options, it appeared.

“Birdie?” Ezra’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

You smiled up at him. “Hey, Ezra.”

“You seem vexed today. What troubles you?”

Gesturing vaguely around you, you said, “I have nowhere to grade these papers in peace. The power’s out at my place until 6pm tonight, and there is not a _single_ free table.”

Ezra frowned consolingly at you. He appeared to be thinking about something. “This does put a damper on things. I, too, was plannin’ on gettin’ these essays read and graded today. Tell you what, why don’t we go back to my office? It’s nice and quiet there.”

Your mind went blank for a moment. _Alone with Ezra for a prolonged period of time_.

Wordlessly, you nodded. “Y-yeah. That sounds great,” you stammered.

Ezra led the way to his office, chattering about this and that as the two of you walked across campus.

The part of campus that his office was in was nearly deserted. One or two other people were in the hallway chatting about something as you passed them. Ezra ushered you into his office and shut the door behind him as he switched on the lamp beside the door.

Ezra’s office was simple, but suited him well. There were a few framed pictures on the wall. A couch with two end tables. Bookshelves filled with books just past the door. His desk had two chairs, one on either side.

“Make yourself cozy, birdie,” Ezra said as he set his bag on the couch, taking out his stack of essays.

Handing you a pen, Ezra sat down across from you at the desk and the two of you began to mark the pile of essays.

You had to hand it to most of the students whose papers you were responsible for marking. They had submitted well-thought essays that had clear statements that were backed up well. Of course there were a few stinkers in the pile, that would be the case in any class, but you would say for the most part, the average was a solid A-minus.

You and Ezra worked in almost complete silence, the sound of paper flipping over the only sound. You tried very hard not to notice how his free hand was almost always right next to yours, just barely touching.

That was one of the things you noticed about being with Ezra. It was always comfortable. Easy. You didn’t need to speak to be comfortable. It wasn’t awkward. You felt as though you could always be yourself around him without fear of judgement or ridicule. It was something you had never had with Damon. You liked - _loved_ \- being in Ezra’s company, and it was the same for him. He never felt like he had to explain himself to you, nor you to him. It was what it was with Ezra, and it was beautiful.

After about an hour and a half, your backside was killing you. As nice as Ezra’s office was, his chairs were _not_ comfortable. “Is it okay if I move to the couch? This chair is starting to kill me.”

Ezra looked up from his own paper. “Go right ahead, birdie. So long as it’s okay if I join you.”

Setting your backpack on the floor, you sat down on the cushy couch. “Have you ever taken a nap on this couch?”

Ezra smiled in memory as he sat down next to you. “So many times,” he said. “I apologize for the discomfort the chairs bring. Usually people aren’t in here for hours on end.”

Waving away his apology, you looked back to the essay you were grading. It was Mary’s. You were just at the end when a grunting wince from Ezra pulled your attention from the closing remarks you were writing. “Are you all right?” you asked, concern lacing your voice. It wasn’t the first time he had winced suddenly.

“I’m fine, birdie. Nothin’ to worry yourself over. Just this damn hand. Nerve damage,” explained Ezra. At your confused, concerned look, he continued. “I fell out of a tree when I was a kid. The break didn’t correct properly. Most of the time it’s manageable, but every now and again…” Ezra’s grunting sigh was enough to paint the picture.

You placed your hand on his gently. “I’m sorry,” you said genuinely. “Do you wanna take a break for a while?”

Ezra placed his other hand on top of yours. “I appreciate it, sweet thing,” he said gruffly. “But I should be just fine.”

So the two of you carried on, long into the afternoon. You were halfway through the third-last essay of your pile when you suddenly felt your eyes droop.

 _It wouldn’t be a nap_ , you thought as your eyes slid shut, not noticing that Ezra was drowsy as well. _Just resting my eyes._

“Birdie.” Ezra’s voice was far away as he shook your shoulder gently. “C’mon sweetheart. As comfy as this couch is, we can’t stay here all night,” he said.

Your eyes fluttered open. Ezra was still sitting beside you. “Mmm… fell asleep,” you said sleepily.

Ezra smiled his rogue smile. “That you did. I’m not _that_ borin’ am I?” he asked. You shook your head, holding his gaze.

“Never. How long was I-?” You glanced at the clock, answering your own question. It was just after five in the afternoon. It had been about four-fifteen when you last checked the clock.

Ezra was still looking at you intently when your attention was drawn back to him. You glanced at him self-consciously. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Ezra didn’t seem concerned. He _wasn’t_ concerned. He smiled softly at you, before you and he continued your marking.

It didn’t take long for you to finish grading the last of the papers. They weren’t overly long essays.

When you and Ezra had finally finished, about an hour and a half later, you sighed in relief, the daunting task over.

“You survived your first grading. How do you feel, birdie?” asked Ezra as you capped the pen, setting it on his end table.

“Relieved. Tired.” Ezra nodded. Both common when marking essays, as you would continue to find out

His gaze never left you as you neatly stacked the papers, putting them back in your backpack.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as you met and held his gaze, so quietly that you almost didn’t hear him.

Heat washed through you, a warmth that you hadn’t felt in a very long time, at his words. Butterflies flipped and twirled in your tummy as you replied, inching closer to him. “You are, too, Ezra.”

And then you kissed him.

It wasn’t a long kiss, but it didn’t take Ezra any time to respond, his lips exploring yours as you kissed each other with eager curiosity. His beard tingled against your lips, your cheeks. His hands moved up to your face to cup your cheeks. Your own were at his hips, bunching the material of his sweater in your fists.

 _Oh_ , you thought as you pulled apart, _this is what was missing_.

Breathing heavily, you said, “Was that okay?”

Ezra made a sound between a growl and a laugh. “Only if we can do that again.”

And he pressed his lips to yours once again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been loving all the feedback on this story! I meant to have this chapter up last night but then I fell asleep. Oops, lol. Anyway, here is chapter three. The line that Ezra says at the end of the chapter is from Hamlet. Also, the rating has gone up. 👀
> 
> Chapter warnings: Kissing, swearing, implied/referenced sex.
> 
> Find me on tumblr: @thewayofthemandalorian

The following morning, you woke later than you expected. You slept better than you had in ages. The work of grading those essays had been draining, yes, but it was also rewarding work. Work that you enjoyed doing. Especially with the company you had.

 _Ezra._ You smiled dreamily at the thought of him. The way he had looked at you after the two of you had broken apart for air. Like he could hang the moon for you if you asked him to.

It was still very early days of whatever it was that was going on between you and him. But you _liked_ him. And he liked you. You felt an ease - a _comfort -_ with him, that hadn’t been present when you had been with Damon. Or any of your other partners.

Although you hadn’t made any sorts of promises to each other about what you would do now that this bridge had been crossed, you weren’t going to worry. Not just yet.

For now, you were going to bask in the feelings that came after kissing him. It had only been your first kiss with him, but you wanted to have more kisses with him. The rest, for right now, were just details.

You had come home the night before, still in a happy daze about the fact that you had not only kissed him, but that he had kissed you back. That he, on some level, reciprocated your ever-growing feelings for him.

Before you could think too much more about the subject of kissing Ezra some more (though you would not see him again until at least Tuesday, the open house day), your phone rang.

It was Josephine. “Hello?” you answered with trepidation.

Josephine sounded frazzled. “Oh good. I need you to come in to work today.”

The old you would have said yes in a heartbeat. But the new you was more hesitant to pick up shifts left and right. Not to mention it was one of your stipulations when you asked for fewer hours to not be called in. “I’m sorry, Josephine,” you said, feeling no remorse whatsoever. “I can’t.”

Josephine was startled. You had _never_ said no to coming into work before. “What do you mean you can’t?” she sputtered.

You pinched the bridge of your nose with your free hand. “Just that. I told you I wouldn’t be able to pick up any extra shifts when I accepted this assistant’s position.”

Josephine grumbled something, but had to concede. You refused to feel sorry. She had known that you weren’t as available as you once had. You didn’t want the banality of your original job to get in the way and diminish the feeling of vindication you had felt when you were grading those essays.

There was a lot of uncertainty right now, but for once, it was good uncertainty, something you had never realized existed until now.

Instead of going to work and having it be unrewarding, you decided you would have a day to yourself. Starting with a coffee at your favourite cafe.

It was nice to have some “me” time after being so busy this past week. It was something that you wanted to do more of. Or at least, more than never. You enjoyed having a different balance to your life besides just work and home with no in between. With this new job as being Ezra’s teaching assistant, no two days were exactly the same. You had _time_ to do things that you liked. Which had been a rarity up until now.

For the first time in a while, you considered what it was that you wanted to do. Part of you was thinking maybe, just maybe, going back to school to get your masters degree wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Or perhaps you could work for the English department yourself. It was a lot to think about. You had options that you hadn’t realized.

* * *

On Tuesday morning, you were greeted with a number of “welcome students and parents” signs and greeters. It was a rainy, blustery day. Not ideal for a tour of the campus, you thought. But the show must go on.

Before you could make your way to the library, a woman you vaguely recognized from the English department caught your attention.

“I was hoping to catch you,” she said brightly. “I was so hoping that you could be part of the open house. As an alumna of the English department. It would be so good for the prospective students to hear a first-hand account of what it’s like to be in the English department from an actual alum. Rather than toss a statistic at them,” the woman explained. You nodded.

“Oh, um, okay?” you said. “But what about -?”

The woman whose name you still couldn’t place waved away your concern. “I’ve already spoken with Mrs. Levitt. She said it was fine.”

Muttering your assent, you allowed to be ushered away from the library towards the gym where all the departments in the humanities were set up. As you set down your bag and coat beneath the folding table you noticed who you were going to be with for the day.

“Ezra?” you said, taking in the man who had filled most of your thoughts over the weekend.

Ezra’s face split into a grin at the sight of you. “Birdie! Well this is a delightful surprise,” he drawled.

The co-ordinator smiled. “Excellent, you already know each other.” Then, remembering, she said, “Oh, of course. You two work together.”

You and Ezra shared a look. “In a manner of speakin’, yes we do,” said Ezra.

Giving a “silly me” giggle, the woman went off in search of the current student she was using for open house day.

Using the moment’s reprieve to your benefit, you turned and faced Ezra. He had a similar expression on his face that he’d had in the moments before you had first kissed him in his office.

“Hello, birdie,” he said quietly, discreetly taking your hand in his. He rubbed his thumb against your knuckles.

How badly you wanted to kiss him again, but you knew you couldn’t. Not here. You would have to wait until you were in a more secluded area.

The woman returned with the current student studying English. It was none other than Mary.

“Well this is fortuitous!” said Ezra. “We all know each other,” he explained to the woman.

Left to your own devices until the open house began properly, the three of you chatted about this and that. Your weekends, the class. Ezra hinted at what was coming next.

And you were surprised to learn that Ezra mentored someone twice a week.

“Sharp as a whip, that girl is,” said Ezra fondly of Cee, the sixteen year old girl who was in foster care after her parents died in a car accident a few years ago.

You smiled fondly at Ezra as he spoke about Cee and all the goals and ambitions she had. She wanted to be a writer, something that you had wanted to be when you were about her age.

As you told him that, he looked at you. “You should be a writer, birdie, I know you got talent.”

Suddenly a little shy, you said, “Oh no, I couldn’t.”

 _Could you_?

Mary joined in then, “Oh, but you’re so good at it!” She had read some of your scribblings once. “You know you can’t work at the university library forever!” she said.

Before you could protest, however, the tourists and their parents started to arrive, windswept and wet from the rain outside.

* * *

“I would call that a success!” said Ezra as the last stragglers from the open house departed four hours later.

It had been a quick four hours. You had spoken with several people, telling them about what it had been like for you as a student. Ezra, in turn, spoke about the types of courses that were offered, what he taught. He was charming as ever, winning over several potential students who were unsure of whether they wanted to study English.

You found yourself and Ezra gazing at each other for longer and longer intervals between each group of people, your eyes flickering to his lips, his eyes doing the same. It was near torture to not kiss him when he was _right there_ and you knew that you both wanted to.

As you stood there, while other people gathered their things and started to brave the wind and the rain, you couldn’t see anything other than Ezra’s eyes. So lost in them you were.

Mary, not missing anything, had gone ahead of you, saying that she had to get to the library to do some studying, leaving you and Ezra by yourself.

“It’s good to see you, birdie,” he said, taking your hand again. The other faculty members and students had left as well.

You had leaned in infinitesimally, when there was a loud gust of wind, causing the lights to flicker.

Ezra chuckled, low and throaty. “What’s say you and I get out of here?” he said. “Let me take you for coffee,” he offered.

That sounded nice.

Looking up into his eyes, you nodded. “I’d like that,” you said.

You walked hand-in-hand to the abandoned parking lot. You had forgotten until it had been mentioned by Ezra earlier that it was fall reading break.

He kissed you in the parking lot. “To hell with waiting until we’re off-campus to do this. I’ve wanted to do this since you left on Thursday evenin’,” he said before pressing his lips to yours.

Kissing Ezra was something that you were very quickly getting used to. All weekend, you had thought of little else than kissing him.

Your hand moved up to his hair, your fingers carding through the soft locks. Your other hand wove in under the cardigan he was wearing.

“Hello, birdie,” he whispered, gravelly against your ear as he pulled you against him after he broke the kiss. You chased his lips with yours, kissing him again once. Twice.

“Hello, yourself,” you replied quietly.

After returning your car to your apartment, you joined Ezra in his own car. The wind and the rain had let up slightly.

The drive to the coffee shop that Ezra was taking you to was mostly quiet, save for the beat of rain and the windshield wipers. You and Ezra chatted about this or that, but mostly, the two of you sat in comfortable silence. His hand reached for yours at a red light.

The coffee shop that Ezra had brought you to was one that you had never been to before, but it was one that you had been by many times.

It was quiet, practically deserted, as the two of you walked in.

The coffee shop was cute. It was a place you could picture Ezra coming to. It was off the beaten path like he was.

“Hey, Ez!” said the man behind the counter. Ezra greeted him. “What can I get started for you two?” he asked.

As you sat at a table, you fiddled with the spoon, turning it over and over and over in your fingers.

Ezra’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.“I’m glad we were able to do this. I’ve been wantin’ to ask you on a proper date for a while now.”

You looked up at him. He was looking at you with a soft gaze. “A proper date?” you asked. “Isn’t this our first date anyway?”

Ezra chuckled. “In a manner of speaking, yes. I suppose this would be considered our first date, proper or otherwise. If you don’t count Thursday afternoon as bein’ a date.”

His voice was casual, light. But his eyes, hopeful and tender, gave the whole truth.

You didn’t know what to say. You supposed it could have been considered a date. Ezra and you _had_ spent time together. Done something together. Settling on taking his hands in yours, you hoped that that would convey enough.

“Well, I’m glad we’re finally on a _proper_ date,” you said, taking a sip of the tea you had ordered.

The two of you spent hours talking together about anything that came to mind. It wasn’t the first time you had thought it, but you thought it all the same.

_Ezra is the easiest man to be around._

“I thought about us,” you said suddenly, “over the weekend.”

Ezra’s thumb twitched against your knuckle as he responded. “I did, too,” he said quietly. Licking his lips, Ezra continued. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you, birdie. I’ve felt the inklings of romance before, but never quite like this.”

You were sure he could hear your heart beat from across the table as you responded. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone else like this before, either. I don’t know if there’s a special rule or something about faculty members dating or whatever it is that we’re doing, but I _like_ you, Ezra. I want to spend time with you.”

He leaned across the table and kissed you softly, unable to put all that he wanted to say to you into words.

When he dropped you off at your apartment later, neither of you wanted to part ways just yet, his lips against your cheek as he kissed your face.

“Come upstairs, Ezra,” you said.

Ezra and you spent a long time making out on your couch, your lips swollen and puffy, neck marked from where his lips and teeth had lightly grazed.

* * *

From then on, you and Ezra began to spend more and more time together outside of the classroom and the context of his Shakespeare class. Although that was what brought you two together, it no longer needed to be an excuse for you to spend time in his office, or out for dinner or coffee, or anywhere with him, really.

You quickly realized that your trepidation of being found out was nothing to be worried about. Mary had been right. You weren’t his student, he wasn’t even technically your boss. He was just Ezra, and you were just you.

As you were finding more and more satisfaction in your time assisting Ezra, you were finding what little satisfaction you had at your other job dwindling.

“Why are you still here?” asked Mary one day. “I know you aren’t enjoying it,” she said.

It was true. On the days that you did work at the university library, you were distracted easily. Though in recent days, one of your fondest memories came from the library.

It had been November. You were doing a holds list one day in the stacks when you had seen Ezra out of the corner of your eye, sauntering his way over to you.

“Fancy meetin’ you here, birdie,” he had said.

You weren’t sure what came over you. Making sure that no one was nearby to see, you pulled him into an aisle with an obstructed view. Ezra caught on quickly. You kissed him hungrily as he swept you into his arms.

“Well, shit. This is risky, sweetheart,” Ezra said as he moved his lips down your jaw, his voice amused.

“I know, but I couldn’t wait,” you said breathlessly, stifling a shiver as he nipped the spot beneath your chin that you loved. “Thought about making out with you in the library for a while now.”

When you came downstairs twenty minutes later, Mary took one look at you, noticed your kiss swollen lips, and raised an eyebrow, saying nothing. She needed a better poker face, though, with the smirk she couldn’t seem to get rid of every time she looked in your direction.

Looking back on it, that was when you realized that things had shifted slightly. Though your feelings for him were serious, everything else became more serious. It wasn’t just fun anymore. It was quickly becoming something more. Both you and Ezra seemed to realize it, embrace it.

* * *

Before you realized it, it was nearing the end of the fall semester, exams were just a few days away. This class didn’t have a proper exam, rather a take-home exam that they needed to submit on the final day before the winter holiday.

You sat on Ezra’s couch in his office after that final day of class before the holidays, grading the take-home exams. It was snowing lightly outside.

Taking Ezra’s hand in yours, you kissed it, before leaning against his shoulder. Over the past month and a half, you and Ezra had spent all your free time together, your feelings for each other only ever growing stronger and stronger. If it wasn’t love you felt for him yet, it soon would be.

“Promise you won’t fall asleep on me this time?” Ezra asked teasingly.

You smiled up at him. At one point it would have been odd to see him in a hoodie and jeans, but not now. Not after spending so much time with him. “I make no promises. You’re just so comfortable. And this blanket doesn’t help either.”

It took less time to grade these ones. You weren’t sure if it was because you knew what to look for, or if it was because they were shorter than the essays had been, but you and Ezra were finished just before seven-thirty.

You leaned yourself against his shoulder again, Ezra’s arm wrapping around you.

“I like this,” you said quietly. Ezra hummed in agreement.

Tilting your head up, you kissed him.

Though you and he kissed a lot, to call this a kiss was grossly understating what it really was. Shifting so that you were almost in his lap, you moaned against his lips as his moved in tandem with yours.

“ _Ezra_ ,” you whispered, suddenly feeling his own desire for you. “Please.” You weren’t even sure what it was that you were asking for, but whatever it was, you wanted it. Wanted _him_.

Ezra whispered your own name in response - your real name. “Are you sure?” he asked. “Because I have wanted for nothing else but this.”

You nodded, kissing the faded scar beneath his eye from when he fell off his bike as a small child, lightly grinding your hips against his. The broken, stuttering moan he gave in response was music to your ears.

Catching his breath, Ezra said, “I need you to say it, my love.”

Your own voice was hoarse. Needy, almost. “I want this, Ezra. I want _you._ I have for a while now.”

Ezra whispered your name again. “Birdie.” And that was it.

Your lips were never far from his skin, nor his from yours as he eased you down on the couch so that you were more comfortable. Nothing else mattered but you and him and this. You clung to him as he wrapped himself around you with the greatest ease and tenderness in the world, whispering your name reverently against your skin.

Like the moment in the library a few weeks ago, you wanted to bottle this moment forever.

As Ezra kissed a trail down your cheek as he moved against you, the words that you had thought so many times sprang forth from your lips, making themselves known to both you and him.

“I love you, Ezra.”

* * *

Later, as you rested against him on the couch, the words you had said earlier came back to him.

“Did you mean it? What you said earlier?” Ezra asked quietly.

He didn’t need to clarify. You knew what he meant.

“Yes, Ezra. I-I love you,” you said. “I have for a while now,” you confessed.

Ezra was quiet, something he was not known for. Panic coursed through you.

_Had you said it too soon? Was he second-guessing himself?_

Before you could say any more than his name, he tilted your head up so that you could look at him. He kissed you, softly, tenderly.

“ _Doubt thou the stars are fire. Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar. But never doubt I love,_ ” Ezra whispered, sealing his words with another kiss to your lips.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 is here! Thank you all so much for your sweet feedback on the previous chapters and the other fics I have posted this past week. I always love reading your commentary. I hope you love reading this chapter as much as I loved writing it
> 
> Chapter warnings: So much fluff, mentions of bad relationships, kissing (oh my god, so much kissing), implied/referenced sex, food mention.
> 
> Find me on tumblr: @thewayofthemandalorian

Ezra’s melodic drawl pulled you from your reverie. “Penny for your thoughts, sweet thing?”

You turned from his window where you had been watching the snow fall outside in thick, fluffy flakes.

“Nothing in particular. Everything. Nothing.” You were thinking about earlier that evening. Your confession to him. His responding confession.

The two of you had laid there in silence on his couch in the office for some time after you had told him that you loved him and he had responded in kind. Eventually, Ezra had spoken. “Come back to my place. Let me make you dinner.”

That is where you found yourself now.

You had nodded against his bare chest, pressing a kiss to his sternum, before he eased you up into a sitting position. “I’d like that,” you had said as you started pulling your clothes back on. As you stepped into your boots, Ezra tilted your head up, stealing a kiss from you before leading you through the maze of hallways to the parking lot.

Ezra’s house was exactly what you imagined it to be. It was small but cozy, with old hardwood floors, stained glass in the windows, a little sunroom at the back of the house, just off the living room. A floor-to-ceiling bookshelf filled with books and little nick-nacks beside an old television in the living room. The kitchen was sufficiently sized, with a door leading to the small backyard. You had yet to see his bedroom, but you expected it to be just as cozy as the rest of his house was.

“It ain’t much, but it’s home,” Ezra had told you as you toed off your boots. You felt at home almost instantly.

He took your coat from you, stealing a kiss as he hung it on a coat hanger. It felt very familiar. _Domestic_. Like you could do this every day without being tired.

Visions of greeting him after a long day at work filled your mind’s eye as he let you take in his home. His sanctuary away from work. An emotion that was hard to pinpoint swelled in you at the implication that he trusted you enough to bring you here.

Ezra held his hand out to you now, pulling you into him. Kissing the top of your forehead, the bridge of your nose, he sighed in contentment. “It’s comin’ down hard out there.”

You nodded against his chest. “It is. I’m glad we left when we did.” Outside, the snow had picked up significantly, even in the last twenty minutes.

Your stomach rumbled then. Ezra smirked at you. “Hungry, birdie?”

“I could eat.” You returned his smirk, stepping up on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his. “Can I help?” you asked, following Ezra into the kitchen.

Turning on the light, Ezra pulled out a cutting board and a knife before raiding his fridge. Two onions - one Spanish, one green - three cloves of garlic and some ground beef came out. “I’m going to put you to work, girlie.” Ezra kissed your hair before taking out a frying pan.

Taking the knife and cutting board from Ezra, you started with the garlic before moving on to the onions. “Any particular way you want the onions cut?”

Filling a pot with water, Ezra said, “Small strips, please, birdie.”

This was nice. It was something you could very easily getting used to, doing domestic things with Ezra.

“What are you smilin’ that pretty smile for, birdie?” Ezra poured some olive oil into the frying pan. “Some handsome man on your mind?” he teased.

“Maybe,” you teased back, bringing over the chopped vegetables.

Ezra took the cutting board from you, dumping the onions and garlic into the frying pan. “Tell me about this handsome man of yours.”

You faux-thought for a moment. “Well, he’s smart and charming. He’s unusual, but in the best kind of way. He’s ruggedly handsome.” You cut yourself off by kissing Ezra quickly before continuing. “And he’s the kindest man I think I’ve ever met in my life. And I love him. A lot.”

You had more to say, but Ezra cut you off. His kiss was insistent. Passionate. He wrapped his arms around your body, moulding you to his own body as he kissed you breathless.

Ezra’s voice was hoarse when he spoke. “I love you, too.” And then he kissed you again.

The two of you would have stayed like that but the snapping of the onion and garlic in the frying pan pulled the two of you apart. Ezra’s eyes were burning with some unspoken thing as the two of you worked side by side, him on the pasta sauce, you on the spaghetti.

It was as though you had done this a million times before with him.

* * *

It was just past eight-thirty when you sat down to eat at the table. As Ezra dimmed the light, you lit the two candles he had.

“I’m sorry I don’t have more by way of drink, birdie.” Ezra sat down across from you, handing you a glass of water.

You didn’t mind. You were happy just to be with him. Twirling a bit of the concoction you and Ezra had created around your fork, you took a bite. “This is delicious,” you said around your bite of food.

“I find I must concur, birdie.” Ezra’s hand met yours. “We make quite the team, you and I.”

Even though the two of you had spent all afternoon together, you foud you did not have a shortage of things to talk about with Ezra.

Somehow you ended up on the topic of Damon. Though it was hard to discuss, it wasn’t as difficult as you had anticipated. “I wasn’t with him for very long. Less than a year. But … he wasn’t _good_. It didn’t take long for him to show me who he really was. A selfish, selfish man who broke my heart. It took a while for me to pick up the pieces. I think that’s partially why I was so stuck for so long.”

Ezra took it all in stride. He let you speak, not interrupting once as he covered your hand with his gently. “I can’t speak for that man. He didn’t deserve you. And I am sorry that he caused you such heartache. Truly. But I am positively _honoured_ that you have trusted me with your heart. I promise I will endeavour to take good care of it.”

Tears sprung to your eyes at his words. As you cupped his cheeks in your hands and kissed him tenderly, one of them rolled down your cheek. If Ezra noticed it, he didn’t say anything about it as he pulled away, his thumb wiping it away gently.

“I love you,” you said quietly.

You were like that for a while, as the candles burned down.

As the two of you did the dishes, you bumped your hip against his as he washed and you dried.

The words came to your lips before you could think. “I like this. A lot.”

Ezra nodded in agreement. “As do I, sweetheart.”

The dishes finished, you sat on the couch with Ezra, his arms wrapped around you, a fire going in the woodstove. The light from the woodstove reflected off Ezra’s face, giving him an almost ethereal look.

You felt very comfortable, _safe_ even, in Ezra’s arms. “I don’t wanna go home,” you murmured, just loud enough for Ezra to hear.

“Then stay.” The words were quiet, whispered against your hair, but you heard it all the same.

You shifted in his arms so that you could look at him. “Ezra I don’t want to impo -”

“You’re not imposing, birdie. It’s freezing outside and the roads are bad. I don’t want to think about you drivin’ in conditions like this if you don’t have to. ‘Sides, I want you to stay. You haven’t seen my bedroom yet,” replied Ezra, his eyes twinkling.

You so desperately wanted to stay. “All right. When you put it like that.”

Ezra hummed in delight as you settled against his chest again. You were very comfortable like this.

* * *

“Ezra, can I ask your opinion on something?”

The thought had been plaguing you for a while, but the past little while had really set it in stone.

“Always, my dearest.” Ezra’s voice was curious. Intrigued.

You hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I want to quit my job. Not the one with you,” you added hastily when you felt Ezra’s inhalation of breath. “But at the library. I’m not happy there. Not as happy as I am when I’m working with you. I haven’t been happy there in _ages._ And I was wondering if you think I should hand in my resignation following the break.”

Ezra pondered for a moment, thinking of the correct words to say. “Well, birdie. First and foremost I want you to be happy. And I can tell that you are stuck in a rut there. While I will miss our little escapades there, I think you shouldn’t stay in a place that isn’t makin’ you happy. The only thing I wonder about is finances.”

You had worried about that, too. Though you had enough money set aside in the event of an emergency, it wasn’t enough to live on. “I was thinking about that, too. And I was almost wondering about working as a legal clerk. If I’m not qualified now, it shouldn’t be too difficult to get my qualifications.”

Ezra pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’d be somethin’ you’d be good at. What about your writin’?”

You smiled softly at the sensation of Ezra playing with your hair. “I would do that on the side. I think if I put in my resignation now, the money I have saved from the library and from being your assistant would be enough to tide me over rent-wise until I can get another job. I want to do something _fulfilling_ , Ezra.”

Ezra understood. He wanted the same thing as you. As he pressed a kiss to your hair, you yawned suddenly. “I think, sweet girl, that you should do what makes you happy. But for right now, we should go to bed.”

Before you could cuddle in further to Ezra’s soft warmth, he pulled the blanket off the two of you. “All right,” you said sleepily as he stood up, taking his outstretched hand in yours.

Since you didn’t have any pajamas or anything with you, Ezra loaned you an extra pair of his flannel sleep pants and an old pullover sweater. He had to admit, he loved seeing you in his clothes. It was a sight that he wanted to see often.

“I have a spare toothbrush in the drawer,” he said as you padded to the bathroom.

You kissed him when you crawled into the bed beside him. “I looked outside on my way back from the bathroom. It’s not letting up any time soon.”

Ezra placed his hand on your shoulder. “Good that you’re here, then.”

He kissed you again, his other hand crawling up under the sweater of his that you were wearing. Somehow you ended up in his lap, your lips still on his.

The two of you were exploring each others’ faces with your lips. “Ezra,” you groaned.

“Mmm… yes?” Ezra’s own voice was hoarse as he attached his lips to your neck.

Stifling a shudder, you moved your hips against his. “Ezra, please.”

Ezra nipped your collarbone before pulling the sweater up over your head. “Don’t worry, my love. I’ll keep you warm on this cold night.”

In the dark, as you were teetering on the edge of sleep, Ezra’s body wrapped around yours, he spoke. “I never asked you, birdie. What are you doin’ for the holidays?”

You stifled a yawn. “Not a lot. Nothing really. My parents are in Ireland for their thirtieth wedding anniversary, so I’m not too sure.”

Ezra didn’t like the idea of you spending the holidays by yourself. “The kid’s coming for Christmas dinner.”

You smiled. “That sounds nice. She sounds lovely from what you’ve mentioned.”

Pride swelled in Ezra at the thought of Cee. “She is. But I was wonderin’ if you maybe wanted to join us. She’d like to meet you.”

 _Oh_.

Turning to face Ezra, you said, “You want me? At your Christmas dinner?”

Ezra’s lips found your forehead. “Darlin’, I always want you.”

 _Sweet man_.

You nestled yourself into Ezra’s chest, inhaling his scent. “I’d love to,” you said.

The smile was evident in Ezra’s voice. “I was so hopin’ you’d say that, birdie.”

As the two of you fell into sleep, you thought that you had never been so comfortable before in all your life.

* * *

When you woke the next morning, well-rested and pleasantly aching, Ezra was still sleeping beside you.

He had shifted sometime in the night, now facing you in sleep, an arm draped loosely around your hip.

Ezra in sleep was a peaceful creature. He was totally relaxed. It was a side you thought few others saw of him. So intense he was in his wakefulness. Ezra looked younger in sleep.

You stroked his cheek lightly, affectionately. “Ezra,” you whispered in his ear as you kissed his scruffy cheek. He grunted, but did not wake.

Pressing kisses down his cheek, you shifted yourself down. His shirt had ridden up in the night, perhaps when he had moved in his sleep.

You pushed his shirt up a bit more, exposing his tummy so that you could press kisses there.

Ezra’s skin was so soft, so warm. He groaned again as he started to stir. You pressed a kiss to his stomach, another to his ribs, moving your way back up his chest as Ezra began to wake. His arm tightened around you slightly as you pulled his shirt back down, going for his neck and collarbone now instead.

“This is one way of bein’ woken up, birdie.” Ezra tilted your head up from where it was laving kisses against his neck, pressing his lips to yours, smiling sleepily into the kiss. “G’morning,” he said as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“Morning yourself.” You played with a wild strand of his hair. “How did you sleep?” you asked.

“Forgive me for soundin’ selfish, birdie, but I sure would enjoy waking up with you more often.”

You felt the same. “It’s not selfish. I could get used to this, too.”

Ezra smiled, his hands making absent strokes on your back.

“I love you.” You said it just to say it, to feel it on your lips. To have Ezra hear it.

Ezra kissed your brow. “I love _you_.”

The two of you hung out in bed for a few minutes more, until your stomachs protested in hunger.

Breakfast was simple. Eggs, toast, some bacon. The two of you chatted about nothing in particular, just glad to still be in each others’ company.

“What’s your plan, birdie?” asked Ezra as you placed a dried plate in the cupboard after breakfast.

You shrugged. “I don’t really have one, really. I was thinking, if you’re not sick of me yet, we could spend the day together?”

Ezra placed his hands on your shoulders. “I could never be sick of you, darlin’. I was hopin’ about the same. Tell you what, why don’t you shower while I take care of the snow on the driveway, and then we can swing by your place to pick up anythin’ you might need.”

You glided your hands up and down Ezra’s sides. “That sounds great.”

Twenty minutes later found you in Ezra’s car, the two of you bundled up. It didn’t take you long to gather your belongings. You weren’t sure how long Ezra wanted you to stay, so you packed enough for a few nights, just to be on the safe side.

The two of you had a nice, quiet day in. The snow had stopped sometime in the night, so Ezra hadn’t needed to shovel a second time. After uploading the grades both from the take-home exam as well as the midterm grade itself to the online page for the course, you and Ezra curled up on the couch. A movie played in the background, but neither of you really paid attention, instead focused on each others’ lips.

* * *

It was your suggestion to eat dinner in the sun room. Ezra had agreed with the idea instantly.

The sun room was insulated, warm. It had several windows. A woodstove sat in the corner, cracking merrily as you ate.

“This was a good idea, birdie. I don’t usually eat in the sun room in the winter,” Ezra said around a bite of potato.

You kissed his cheek. “I have good ideas sometimes.”

After putting the dishes in the sink for later, Ezra draped a blanket around the two of you as you sat on the carpeted floor.

“This is nice,” you murmured sleepily, lying down half on the floor, half on Ezra.

Before you knew it, the sun was streaming its way weakly through the windows. Ezra was snoring softly in your ear, one of his hands at your hip, the other above his head.

You smiled at your sleeping boyfriend, nestling back in beside him just as he woke up.

“Oh. We fell asleep, birdie.” Ezra’s voice was rough with sleep. He kissed you sleepily, missing your lips slightly.

The two of you lay there for some time. You didn’t know what time it was, there was no clock in this room and your phones were on the table out of reach. Too comfortable where you were, you decided you didn’t need to know what time it was. You suspected it was early, but you didn’t care; you were happy where you were.

It was quiet as Ezra woke up. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that he had fallen back asleep were it not for his roaming hands and lips against your skin.

A thought came to you then.

“Ezra?” you started, carding the back of his head. He mumbled something in response. “Have you ever …” You didn’t know how to phrase the question. You kissed him languidly, hoping that he would pick up what you were trying to say.

Ezra’s smirk as you pulled back was playful. “Have I ever _what_ , birdie?” He was playing with you, knowing exactly what you were trying to ask.

Heat flushed your face as you tried to find your words. “Have you ever done _extra-curricular activities_ back here?”

Ezra mock-frowned. “You mean like chess club or robotics team? No, can’t say that I have, birdie.”

Trying to stifle your laughter, you tried again. “You mean, no swim team meetings here either? What a shame.”

Ezra swallowed your laughter with his kiss, rolling the two of you over so that you were on your back and he was above you. He pulled your shirt off before working on your sleep pants, kissing you as he worked. “There’s a first time for everything, my love.” 

* * *

Though you and Ezra were in close contact after you had returned back to your own place, you were instantly at ease when you arrived back at his place on Christmas Eve. The plan was to stay until the day after New Year’s Day, though you had packed enough for a few days extra.

You were excited to meet Cee. Ezra had told you so much about her and had told her a lot about you as well.

You clutched Ezra’s gifts in your hands. It was a simple gift that you hoped held a lot of sentiment. A framed photo you had taken of the two of you during your first stay at Ezra’s place. Additionally, you had gotten him a book of poetry from a large collection of poets, as well as some nice coffee beans for his fancy coffee maker and some dark chocolate that he loved.

Placing them beneath the small tree that Cee had helped him decorate, you saw a few gifts addressed to you beneath the tree as well.

Christmas Eve with you and Ezra was quiet. You sat next to him on the couch as you watched a Christmas movie, your hand in his.

You had very quickly gotten comfortable being in Ezra’s space. To the point that you no longer considered it to be _just_ Ezra’s space, but your _shared_ space. You thought - you _hoped_ \- that he saw it the same way.

Gone was the notion that you were simply his teaching assistant. That notion had been done away with a while ago, but it was well and truly buried now. There would be no going back to whatever it was you had been before that fateful afternoon when you had first kissed him in his office. And you wanted it this way.

As he took you to bed that night, soft and tender in his ministrations, he whispered so reverently you thought it would break your heart, “Where did you come from, my sprite, my dearest love?”

The next day, Cee arrived just before breakfast. You watched as she hugged Ezra warmly before introducing yourself. She surprised you by hugging you.

“Ez has told me so much about you,” she said.

It took you no time to warm up to Cee. She was as lovely as Ezra had described.

Ezra loved his gifts from you, especially the framed photo of the two of you. “This is something I’ll cherish, my dearest.” He, in turn, had given you a small painting, some Shakespeare plays, a notebook, and lastly a key to his house. “Look through the notebook, birdie,” Ezra said.

Curious, you flipped open the notebook. Instead of being blank like you expected, you were met with Ezra’s familiar scribbling.

“Did … did you write this about _me_?” Your voice was small. Ezra simply nodded.

Tears burned your eyes as you leaned up to kiss him softly. “Thank you. I love it. I love _you_.”

The rest of the holidays were spent lazing about, just spending time with Ezra and on occasion, Cee. You had warmed up to her instantly and she to you.

On New Year’s Eve, it was just you and Ezra - Cee was spending the night at a friend’s house. School would be starting back up in another week. You weren’t looking forward to handing in your two week’s notice to Josephine, and you would miss working with Mary. But Ezra was right, it was time for you to move on. He had helped you the other day with the letter of resignation.

It was a quiet New Year’s Eve, but it was your most enjoyable one yet. At midnight you and Ezra cheered quietly as the clock struck midnight before exchanging a happy new year kiss. 

“What’s on your mind, birdie?” asked Ezra as you lay beside him in bed half an hour later.

You shifted to your side. “Just thinking about the winter semester. How different it might be compared to the fall semester.”

Ezra nodded. “Yes. I’m looking forward to it.”

As he kissed you goodnight, you couldn’t help but agree with him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who’s left feedback so far on this series. I’m really enjoying writing it. This is the last “real” chapter, the epilogue is coming next. As for right now... it’s time for Ezra to meet the parents!
> 
> Chapter warnings: Domesticity, implied/referenced sex, brief discussion of sex, meeting the parents, discussion of marriage.
> 
> Find me on tumblr: @thewayofthemandalorian

The second term started in an uneventful fashion, the way it always did, with one minor change.

“I’ll be sorry to see you go, my dear. But I can’t say that I’m too surprised. I should have seen it coming,” said Josephine wistfully as you handed her your notice on the first day back.

You expected that you would feel more sad about leaving the job you had been in for the better part of six years, but as you neared the end of your final shift, you felt a great weight being lifted from you.

Mary had bemoaned your departure for a week. “Who am I going to gossip with?” she had whined.

“You’ll be fine, Mary,” you said, though truthfully you would miss her, too. “You’ll still see me in Ezra’s class.”

She huffed in irritation at that. “That’s not the same and you know it.”

As much as you missed working with Mary, you were more than glad that you were finished in a place that you had outgrown years ago.

When you discovered that not only did you have to get a special two-year diploma for a legal clerk position, but that no law firm in the surrounding area was hiring in any positions, you found yourself at a drawback.

“What am I going to do?” you had asked Ezra one night over dinner.

Ezra chewed, thinking it over. “Well, sprite. I know that the director at the publishin’ house that the department is affiliated with is looking for an assistant startin’ in May. They just put out the call for applications today. I know that’s not exactly what you were lookin’ for, but it is somethin’.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s perfect.” You loved the idea. It was right up your alley. It would get your foot in the door for getting your own writing, which was coming along smoothly, published.

Not expecting to hear anything back, you were pleasantly surprised when the company called you two days after submitting your application.

The interview was perhaps your most stress-free interview you had ever had. You impressed the interviewer from the human resources department and the director Annie with your intellect and your knowledge of publishing houses as well as your experience in the English department, both as a student and as a teaching assistant.

They hired you two hours later (presumably after your competition had been interviewed). You thanked Ezra that night after he had taken you out for a congratulatory dinner.

You were glad that your new job didn’t start until May. It gave you an opportunity to finish up in Ezra’s class (not that you were ever going to leave him high and dry).

Ezra’s class continued to go well. You and Ezra had always worked harmoniously together, but now that things were more official and serious between the two of you, working together became almost easier in a way.

No longer were you dancing around each other. And it almost made it easier to hide your relationship from the class.

Even still, when you were called on Ezra to perform with him as an example of what he was looking for in the performances he had assigned, the way he read Prospero’s line from _The Tempest_ had a double meaning, one that not only you picked up on, but also Mary.

“ _Hear my soul speak: the very instant I saw you, did my heart fly to your service._ ”

* * *

“Where’s this from?”

You were playing with Ezra’s hair one night, softly weaving your fingers through it. Often you had wondered about his little blonde patch but had never asked until now.

Seated on the counter of Ezra’s kitchen, your legs wrapped loosely around his waist as he stood before you, his hands on either side of you, the two you were enjoying the early March breeze that was drafting in through the cracked window.

Ezra kissed your jaw tenderly before he responded. “That, my lovely sprite, is a birthmark. Damn near baffled the doctors that brought me into this world.” He kissed your nose.

“And here I was thinking you dyed it.” Your voice was teasing as you ran your fingers through the rogue streak.

Ezra’s eyebrow raised. “Do I seem the type that would go to the store for hair dye for one lock of hair?” he asked.

You glanced up at him, your eyes teasing. “Truthfully, Ezra?”

“Preferably, birdie.”

“ _Yes_. Yes, you do.”

Ezra chuckled in response. “You wound me, my sprite.”

Your laugh is quickly turned into a moan as he kissed you, his body flush against yours. Ezra’s hands moved up from the countertop to wrap around you, your legs tightening around his waist.

Before the two of you could get too carried away, your phone began to ring.

“Leave it.” Ezra’s voice was a growl as you fumbled for your phone.

“It could be someone important.” Sure enough, it was your mother.

Doing your very best to ignore the way that Ezra was delightfully pressed against you, you answered the phone. “Hi, Mom!” you said, trying to put cheer into your voice.

“Hi, honey. How are you doing?” your mother replied.

Ezra had pressed his lips to your neck. Stifling a shiver, you responded. “Oh, just fine. You?”

You tried _so_ hard not to let your mind wander as your mother prattled on about whatever was going on. But it was increasingly difficult with Ezra’s ministrations.

“We were wondering when we could come and see you? Meet this man that you’ve spoken so highly of. A professor!” Your parents - well, your mother to be more precise - had taken your news of dating Ezra, a man who was not only older than you but also in a position of more power than you, rather well. The jury was still out on your father’s approval.

“Oh! Um, well spring reading break is next week. Ezra and I were planning on a couple of day trips and things like that. But maybe on the weekend? I need to talk to Ezra about it first.”

Ezra shot you a nervous glance just as your mother replied. “That sounds great, honey. I’ll discuss it with your dad and you can get back to me when you’ve spoken with that man of yours.” 

You finish up with your mother, setting your phone on silent and out of reach. “Now, then,” you nearly purred, grazing your teeth lightly against Ezra’s jaw. “Where were we?”

The bedroom was too far away for you at this point, so the two of you make do on his loveseat in the living room.

“Birdie?” Ezra’s voice was muted against your skin as the two of you came down from your high.

You hummed in response, unable to form words just yet, but wanting Ezra to know that you were listening to whatever he had to say.

Ezra hesitated for a moment. “I was wonderin’… when exactly your lease was up at your place.”

That was something that you hadn’t been expecting. “May first. Why?”

“Oh, no reason, sprite. Just wonderin’. I - Have you signed the lease again?” asked Ezra.

You lifted your head from Ezra’s chest to look him in the eye. “Ezra … are you asking what I think you are?” Your voice was calm, trying to conceal the surge of emotions that was swelling inside you.

Ezra sputtered. “Oh - I just - I know that you ain’t exactly happy in that glorified shoe box. And you spend so many nights of the week here. I love havin’ you around, but …”

He didn’t get a chance to finish. “Yes, Ezra. I will move in with you.” You kissed him sweetly, sealing your words.

It was true. You spent an average of five out seven nights a week at Ezra’s place, only going home so you wouldn’t be paying rent for an apartment that you didn’t live in. It was silly, paying rent for a place that you barely used. And truth be told, you felt more at home at Ezra’s place after two minutes than you ever did at your place.

“You have made this old fool very happy.” Ezra’s voice was whisper against your lips as he gave you a few pecks in between his words.

You kissed him languidly in response. “And you have made _me_ very happy as well, Ezra.”

Ezra smiled so brightly you thought you would go blind from it. “What a pair we are, my sprite.”

* * *

You couldn’t stop jiggling your knee as you sat on the couch in your living room, Ezra’s fingers twined with yours.

“Birdie. _Relax_. Everything will be all right.” Ezra squeezed your fingers in reassurance.

You sighed. “I know, Ezra. I know.” He kissed your cheek lightly.

“Shouldn’t I be the one who’s nervous? I am the one meeting the proverbial firing squad after all.” You could tell that Ezra _was_ nervous. He wanted your parents to like him.

The two of you didn’t have to wait much longer. Not five minutes later, the intercom at the door buzzed. You practically launched yourself at it.

“Hi, sweetie!” Your mom’s voice crackled over the intercom.

You let them in. Less than a minute later they were knocking at the door. “Come in,” you said as you went and stood next to Ezra, taking his hand in yours again.

Your mother was enthusiastic, giving you a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Oh, I’ve missed you so much!” she said as she hugged you for a second time. Your father waited expectantly just behind her.

“Hi, Dad.” You turned to him, giving him a hug as well. “I, uh, I have someone for you to meet.”

Turning to Ezra, you linked your arm with his nerve-damaged one gently. “This is Ezra. My boyfriend.”

Truthfully, the word boyfriend seemed too juvenile. Too _simple_ of a word to fully describe what Ezra was to you.

Easing his arm out of yours, he grasped your father’s hand, giving it a firm handshake. “Sir.” Ezra was serious. Nervous. He wanted this to go well for your sake as well as his.

He turned to your mother next. “Ma’am,” he said with equal severity.

Your mother turned and grinned at you. So far so good, you supposed.

“You’re just in time,” you said nervously as you helped your parents with their spring jackets. “Dinner’s ready in less than ten minutes.”

The dinner table was quiet as the four of you ate. You and your mother carried the conversation mostly. Ezra chimed in every now and again.

“How long are you in town for?” you asked as you sat next to Ezra. His thumb was tracing patterns on the back of your hand, likely to ease his nerves.

“Oh, not long. Just here for the day.” You hardly heard what your mother said, instead looking at your father, attempting to gauge his response to Ezra. Your dad was a quiet person by nature, and difficult to read at the best of times.

“So, Ezra.” Your mother finally turned her attention to him. “Tell us a bit about yourself.”

Ezra cleared his throat before speaking. “Well, I’m an English professor. I teach the Bard with your daughter’s help.”

You knew that this was a potential in with your dad. He loved Shakespeare. Sure enough… “Shakespeare, huh?” Your dad’s voice held interest. “What’s your favourite play by him?” he asked.

Ezra was quick to reply. “The Scottish play, of course. Although I am quite fond of _The Tempest_ and _Hamlet_ as well. The man could do it all with his plays.”

You told your parents about how the class was doing performances. Your dad, being a retired teacher, knew all about the pains of performances from students.

That got Ezra going. “Oh, that one performance from Jamie and Emily. Great students. But they should not go into theatrics.” You laughed at the memory of how ill-prepared and over the top they had been. Sure, it was just a university course, but you could tell they were fully out of their element, likely having never performed before.

Your dad nodded. “I taught high school English and we read _Macbeth_ aloud to have a better grasp of the text. And one year, a group of boys decided to take on what they assumed to be a Scottish accent.” He tried to stifle a grin at the memory. “But they sounded more like cartoon characters than members of Scottish aristocracy.”

The conversation got serious again after that. “So, what are your plans, then?” your dad asked. “You mentioned that you’re moving in together, but do you have any intentions beyond that?”

You felt your face go hot. “ _Dad_!” you hissed. Ezra waved you off, though.

“No, it’s fine. They have a right to ask. I’d ask the same of any of the kid’s prospective partners.” Ezra paused to explain that he was mentoring Cee. Your mother, a social worker with kids, brightened at his explanation. “In no uncertain terms, I love your daughter with all my heart. She is truly the brightest spark in my life. I may not have a plan about matrimony or anythin’ like that just yet.”

You tried very hard not to focus on his usage of the word _yet_. “But she makes me happy. Happier than I’ve ever been in my life. And I can only hope that I make her as happy as she makes me.”

The way you were looking at Ezra was enough to tell your parents everything they needed to know. You loved him just as much as he loved you. He made you more happy than you had been in years.

Your dad spoke then. “We just want the best for her. And we can see clearly that she’s the happiest she’s been since she graduated. The way she speaks about you to us. The way you’ve helped her. I think we can all agree that you were kind of stuck, weren’t you, honey?” your dad asked you.

Wiping away a stray tear that had crept down your face, you nodded. “He’s helped me so much. I’ve never been happier.”

Ezra lifted your hand to his lips, kissing it lightly before continuing. “And she’s helped me. I know our relationship has an unconventional beginning, but she is the love of my life and I would never, _ever_ do anything to hurt her.”

Your parents were pleased with that.

Leaving your father alone with Ezra, your mom helped you with dessert in the kitchen. Your ears were like that of a hawk, trying to pick up on anything that they might be discussing.

“They’ll be fine,” your mom reassured you. When you opened your mouth to speak, she continued. “Just let them have their bonding moment. I like him.”

To say that you were relieved would be a massive understatement. “You do?” you breathed.

“I do. Very much. He’s good for you. You’re being careful, though, right? With … you know.”

Not for the first time today, your face flushed hot. “Mom!” you whispered. “I don’t really want to discuss what we do.” You were flustered. She shot you the look that every mother had. “But if you must know, _yes_. We are.” You left it at that.

When you returned to the table with the apple pie and ice cream, your mother carrying the plates and cutlery, your dad and Ezra were laughing about something related to Shakespeare.

“See, what did I tell you?” your mother’s look said.

After a long discussion about what your new job would be like, what you thought of Cee, and what Ezra’s teaching plan was for the next school year, your parents took their leave.

“We’ll have to come and visit you when you’ve settled in Ezra’s - well I guess, your shared place, now.” You handed your mom her coat as she spoke. “It sounds so homey and cozy.” You nodded.

Your dad kissed the top of your head as he always did. “Do well, honey.” He pulled you in for a hug.

“Safe travels back,” you said, noticing the way that Ezra’s departing handshake with your father was less serious compared to the one he had given a few hours ago.

“Let us know how your move goes.” It wouldn’t be much of a move, now. Most of your things were either already at Ezra’s or packed away in boxes.

As you shut the door after them, you could hear your father’s voice as they went down the stairs. “I like him.”

* * *

“Well that was a success, sprite.” Ezra wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you sat on the couch beside him. He kissed your temple. “As I told you it would be.”

You had to roll your eyes at him. “Everyone likes you.” You pulled a blanket up around you, the damp chill of March permeating.

Noticing your shiver, Ezra raised a brow at you. “I know how to make you be less cold.”

It was tempting. “We should go home. It’s warmer there. And more space.”

As much as you had enjoyed living here, it wasn’t home to you. When you had told your landlord you weren’t going to re-sign your lease, you could practically see the dollar signs in his eyes. You knew the second you were out of there, he would jack the prices up for the next student who rented from him. As much as your landlord had liked you, he was frustrated that he couldn’t up the rent on you. You couldn’t help but feel a little remorse for the next person who lived here, who probably would have to pay at least one and a half times more than what you paid.

Ezra’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “ _Home_ , eh?”

You smiled at him. “Yeah. Home.” You brushed your lips against his to drive home your point even further.

As you settled into bed that night, the word _yet_ came back to you.

After a sufficient amount of time had passed after Ezra had pulled himself out of you, you brought it up.

“Ezra… I was thinking,” you started, trying to collect your thoughts.

He said nothing in response, but indicated that he was listening, that you could continue.

Hesitating for just a moment, you found your voice, your thoughts. “When you said to my parents that you had no solid plans for marriage yet. What did you mean by that?”

Ezra was silent for a moment save for a sigh. “You heard that, did you? Well, birdie. I spoke no word of a lie. You are the love of my life. I’ve never been happier than with you. I know it’s only been six months that we’ve been seein’ each other proper, but I see a future with you. And yeah, the idea of marriage has popped up a time or two. But I wanna wait until we’re both ready. Is that okay?” His voice was soft, almost worried.

You thought for a minute. “Ezra,” you started, your own voice soft. “Are you … proposing to propose to me?”

Ezra couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, sprite, I suppose I am.” His lips brushed the underside of your chin.

“Then I am saying yes to your proposal to propose to me. If that makes any sense.” You weren’t too sure of the etiquette of being asked if he could ask you to marry him when the time was just right.

Ezra smiled his bright smile reserved for you. “My dearest love, that not only makes sense, but it makes me the happiest man in the world.”


	6. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ve reached the end! I am so thankful for all of your lovely feedback. I will be back soon with a Marcus Pike oneshot. The tv show referenced is Downton Abbey. Also I have no idea if Oxford University has a Shakespeare department.
> 
> Chapter warnings: Parent mention, wedded bliss, implied/referenced sex, pregnancy mention.
> 
> Find me on tumblr: @thewayofthemandalorian

_Eighteen months later…_

You looked down at the simple emerald ring that was on your finger, soon to be joined by a wedding band.

It was strange to be sleeping in your childhood bedroom. Away from Ezra for the night. Your mother was a traditionalist when it came to wedding etiquette so he had been wrangled into the guest bedroom for the night.

Tomorrow, after your wedding, the two of you would be spending your first night together as husband and wife. Your stomach churned with excitement at the prospect of being Ezra’s wife, of Ezra being your husband.

You didn’t think much would change in your relationship with each other, at least not on a day to day basis, but the idea of being married to him made you feel more happy and more excited than ever.

From your bedside, your phone rang. It was Ezra, wanting to FaceTime.

“Audio only,” you said by way of greeting. “I don’t completely trust that my mother doesn’t have a secret camera in here for this exact purpose.”

Ezra grumbled but had to concede. “I just wanted to hear your voice, my soon to be wife.”

Though Ezra could not see you, you smiled. “I wanted to hear your voice too, husband-to-be.” You wanted to kiss him. Be in his arms tonight before facing the judge tomorrow who would declare you husband and wife.

As you and Ezra chatted, talking each other through any residual nerves that either of you might have had, you thought back to when Ezra had proposed to you.

It had been in the spring, just after he had proctored the exams for his course on Gothic literature. You had come to bring him lunch while on your break from the publishing house where you had just been promoted to copy-editor.

He had looked at you with a quiet intesnity as you sat beneath the trees in the late spring warmth; it was unlike the usual look he gave you. It was as though he had figured something out.

“What is it?” you asked as he smiled at you.

Ezra said nothing more than two words. “Marry me.”

You were stunned. Not that he was asking you to marry him. The two of you had discussed marriage a few times since his proposal to propose to you.

What you were stunned about was how easy he asked you. It was very unlike him to just cut to the chase like that. You had to admit, you liked it. He knew what he wanted.

Ezra continued. “I know what I want, sprite. And I want _you_. I want you to be my wife. To spend every day for the rest of my life with you as your husband. I love you, birdie and I would be honoured to call you my wife, to hear you call me your husband.”

If he had more to say, you never heard it. Capturing his lips with yours, you kissed him over and over as his arms wrapped around you. “Yes, Ezra. _Yes._ I will marry you.”

Ezra laughed, a light and cheerful sound in your ear as he pulled back. His face was so bright you thought you would be blinded.

Fishing around in his pocket, he pulled out a ring-box. Instead of a typical diamond ring, it was an emerald. It was the most beautiful, most unique engagement ring you had ever seen. You stroked his face with your right hand as he slid the ring on your left hand.

“It’s a bit roomy, my sprite,” Ezra said. It was a bit bigger than your ring size, but you didn’t care. It could be re-sized with no problem.

“I don’t care. I love it. I love you.” You kissed him again, careful of not letting your ring slip off as you cupped his cheeks with your hands, kissing him over and over again.

* * *

Now, as you sat in bed, chatting with your soon-to-be husband, you knew that you wanted nothing else than to be with him.

“I want to kiss you,” Ezra bemoaned. “I know it’s tradition, that it’s bad luck, but would it be _so_ wrong to feel your lips on mine before we speak our vows?”

You agreed, wanting the same thing. “I think I saw something on a show one time, where the couple was getting married the next day but they wanted to kiss each other, so they closed their eyes and felt their way to each other.”

Ezra paused, thinking for a moment. “Chances that your parents are asleep?”

You strained your ears for a moment, trying to hear if they were still awake. Sure enough, you could hear very faint snoring. “I think we’re in the clear.”

Closing the call, you shut off your lamp just as there was a tap on the door.

“This feels silly,” you said as you felt your way in the dark to where Ezra was standing in the doorway. You couldn’t see him more than his outline. All the same, you shut your eyes when you reached him.

“Not silly when it’s true love.” Ezra’s arms outstretched to land on your shoulders.

Reaching your own hands out, you landed on his face. Stepping up on your tiptoes, you kissed him softly, exploring his lips with yours.

As Ezra pulled back a moment later, he whispered lowly in your ear. “I’ll see you at city hall tomorrow.”

You kissed him once more before you shut the door as he walked back to the guest room.

Both you and Ezra had wanted to elope. Neither of you wanting a big wedding or a long engagement. Big weddings were expensive and they stressed you and Ezra out. But you knew that your parents would murder you if they weren’t there on your big day. And you both wanted Cee to be involved as well, especially given that you and Ezra had a strong relationship with her, even after she had been formally adopted by a kind family near where your parents lived.

So, you agreed to have a marriage at city hall after four months of engagement. You would have a reception at a later date with friends and loved ones who wanted to wish you well. That was a compromise that suited everyone.

It felt as though you were barely asleep when your mother was shaking you awake. “Time to wake up.” She opened the curtains. “We need to get you looking like the best bride the world has ever seen.”

It was an overcast late August morning. The sun was peeking through a cloud. A perfect day to get married.

Your mother and Cee fussed over you after you ate breakfast in bed. You had wanted to eat in the kitchen, but the two had refused to hear your protests. Ezra and you were strictly prohibited from seeing each other until you arrived at the city hall.

As your mother and Cee fussed over you, making sure that your hair and makeup were right and your dress fit correctly, your mind kept wandering to Ezra. What was he doing right now? Who was fussing over him?

Before you knew it, you were in the backseat of your mother’s car, headed towards the city hall. The sun had come out. You couldn’t stop smiling as you thought of the moment that you and Ezra would find each other at city hall.

Your heart was pounding in your ears as you made your way to the steps of the city hall. Not from nerves, but from excitement. Your mom was saying something about what the five of you would do after the ceremony, what the restaurant you had reservations at would serve.

And then you saw him from across the parking lot and nothing else mattered.

“Hi,” you said as you made your way over to him. Hand-in-hand you walked up the steps into city hall.

There was one other couple who was waiting to get married by another justice. You and Ezra sat, thinking of nothing else but the ceremony.

Everyone was called to attention when the secretary came from a room and called your and Ezra’s name.

_It was time …_

* * *

Looking back on it later, you didn’t want your wedding any other way. It was simple. The focus was equally on both you and Ezra.

The vows were not dissimilar to what you would have heard in a church wedding. You promised to love and cherish one another.

Ezra’s hands were in yours the entire time, save for when he placed the wedding ring on your finger. You choked your way through your vows, as you promised to take care of him as he promised to take care of you. No one else in the room existed in those moments as you made your promises to each other and bound yourselves together before you kissed each other as the judge pronounced you husband and wife.

You smoothed the fabric of your simple lace dress as you sat at the hotel restaurant, your hand still in Ezra’s. It couldn’t even be considered a wedding dress. It was something that you had fought tooth and nail on with your mom. She had wanted a more traditional wedding dress for you. You refused, instead opting for a simple summer dress that was more fancy than others that you had but nothing over the top.

Ezra cut quite the figure in his suit. It was his best suit, but it was one that you had seen him in before when teaching.

As you digested both your food and the day, you leaned against Ezra’s side as your parents settled the bill at the hotel restaurant. You were ready to be away from everyone but your husband. They were leaving the two of you here, taking Cee with them.

It was almost seven forty-five when everything had been settled. You had checked into the hotel before you had come to the restaurant for dinner. Ezra and you would be staying here for a few days before taking a flight to London for your honeymoon.

“Alone at last, my sprite,” said Ezra lowly as you rode up in the elevator. As you walked onto the floor that you were staying on, Ezra picked you up bridal style, capturing your lips in a kiss.

Your dad had brought up your luggage earlier when you had arrived. It sat neatly just inside the door.

“Come on, birdie. This marriage has gone unconsummated long enough. Let me make love to my wife.”

The two of you hardly left the hotel room for the next two days.

When you weren’t making love with Ezra, the two of you just spent time together. Reading or lazing about, basking in your newlywed state.

* * *

Ezra hated flying, you quickly found out. More specifically, taking off and landing. As you sat beside him in the plane a few days after your wedding, he gripped your hand as tight as possible as it took off. “I do apologize, my love. The takin’-off part does just get me so nervous. Always has.”

You had just squeezed his hand reassuringly as the plane increased in both altitude and speed. As soon as the plane was in the air on-course, Ezra’s grip loosened. He offered you a sheepish smile. You kissed his scruffy cheek as you flipped through the in-flight movies they were offering.

Both you and Ezra were asleep when the plane landed, waking up just as the plane touched down at Heathrow.

It was early in the morning in London - your clock was completely off as you walked through customs with Ezra. You hadn’t done much international travel, so jet lag was still new to you.

The sights that you saw as you were driven by cab to the hotel passed by in a blur. You could see them later.

As soon as you reached the hotel you were staying at, you collapsed into the bed, still fully clothed. You were so tired you didn’t even notice Ezra removing your shoes and your jeans to make you more comfortable.

When you woke, the sun was trying to stream its way through a cloud. Groaning with exhaustion, you glanced at the clock on the night table. It was just past nine-thirty in the morning, U.K. time.

Ezra lay beside you, awake. He was looking at you with a lazy smile on his face. “G’morning sleepin’ beauty,” he drawled. “Are you feelin’ better after that snooze?”

Nodding, you leaned up to catch his lips in a kiss. “Much better. Flying wears me right out.” You snuggle against your husband.

“Birdie?” Ezra’s chest rumbled against your ear as he spoke. You answered distantly. “As much as I love layin’ here with you, we must get a move on if we want to see the sights of London.”

Groaning, you couldn’t help but agree. Ezra had a whole itinerary of things to do. Starting with going to Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre. They were doing a production of _The Tempest._

Ezra truly was in his element in London. As you walked towards the Globe following your breakfast, you noticed that he spoke with such enthusiasm, such knowledge about the history of England and the United Kingdom in general. You loved it here, almost as much as Ezra did.

You were enraptured with the performance, although when the actor read the line that Ezra had read in class so long ago to you, you couldn’t help but think that Ezra’s version was better. At that line, Ezra squeezed your hand, remembering the same thing that you were.

As tired as the two of you were that night, following a meal at the pub close by, he made love to you, whispering words of love and adoration in your ear as he moved inside you.

The following day, you spent the day wandering the grounds of Oxford university, about an hour outside of London. Ezra struck up conversation with a faculty member of the Shakespeare department. “See, my wife and I met through the Bard. I’m on sabbatical this year …” He impressed the faculty member, a man by the name of Mark, who turned out to be the chair of the department. Ezra and he got along well, impressing Mark with his knowledge and wit.

As the two of you continued on walking, Mark called after the two of you, “We’re always looking for more professors. Email me if you’re ever interested.” At your shared look of incredulity, Mark continued. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. Think about it.” He pulled out a card with his contact information.

It remained in the back of yours and Ezra’s minds for the rest of your honeymoon

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” you asked. The two of you were lying in bed, having returned from your two-week long honeymoon two weeks earlier. Following London, you had visited Scotland.

Ezra nodded. “I’d be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t.” It was an enticing offer. To live in England, and teach one of his favourite subjects.

You kissed his hand. “Do you want to? It’s a huge opportunity.”

He paused for a moment. “It is an opportunity. I like that area. Oxfordshire is nice. It’s historical. I just wonder about you.”

You scoffed lightly. “Ezra, we could be in hell and I would still follow you. I vowed it, remember? Where you go, I go.”

Ezra contemplated. “What about your job?”

Kissing his wrist, you said, “They have publishing houses in England, if that’s what you decide. That Mark guy seemed like he wasn’t in a rush to fill the position. And he probably doesn’t want you to give an answer right away.”

Your husband nodded in agreement. He shut his eyes for a moment. “It’s something that you should really consider,” he said finally, almost speaking to himself.

As you dozed off to sleep for the night, you imagined your life in Oxfordshire. It would be away from the hustle and bustle of London, in the countryside. You could have a nice farmhouse, a dog. You wouldn’t necessarily have to drive places. As much as you loved your home here with Ezra, you could make a home with him just about anywhere. The home wasn’t the place, it was the person.

A month passed, two. Ezra kept the idea in the back of his mind. Every now and again, you would come home to see him doing research on the school and the area. One day you had come home to find him looking at houses for sale.

* * *

“My love, I think we should do it,” you said to him at dinner one night, five months after returning from London. You had other news that you wanted to share with him.

Ezra raised an eyebrow at you. “Are you sure, birdie? I am leanin’ towards sayin’ yes, especially after Mark sent me that information about it the other day.”

You took his hands in yours. “Ezra, I want nothing more than to be with you. And if that means in one of the most beautiful places in the world, that’s an added bonus.”

He noticed your slight hesitation. That there was more that you weren’t telling him. “Birdie, is there somethin’ the matter?”

You swallowed, tightening your grasp on his hands for a brief moment. “Well, I was speaking with the doctor today at my check-up. And I wanted to know - I wanted to know when it was no longer safe to fly.”

Ezra frowned in confusion. “Why wouldn’t it be safe to fly, sprite?”

“Well, they say after a certain amount of time, it’s not safe. Not safe for the baby.”

Confusion melted away to realization on Ezra’s face. “You’re not -?”

You nodded apprehensively. “Six weeks. Due in October.”

There was no time to worry if Ezra was upset. He pulled his hands from yours, moving them to cradle your face as he grinned so wide you thought his face would split in two. “My love. This is _wonderful_ news!” As he kissed you, you tasted salt on his face. As you pulled back, you realized that you were not the only one with tears in your eyes. “I love you,” he stuttered out as he kissed you again. You responded in the same, stroking the back of his neck where his hair curled slightly.

As he took you to bed that night, promising that the two of you would make a decision tomorrow about the job offer, Ezra whispered what he said to you after your first time with him in his office.

“ _Doubt thou the stars are fire. Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar. But never doubt I love.”_

You knew that no matter where you ended up, so long that you were with Ezra, it would be a good life, one that you wouldn’t trade for anything.

_The End_


End file.
